


stumble through it all

by loafers



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Long Distance Relationship, M/M, Polyamory, Uni AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 04:50:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4990927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loafers/pseuds/loafers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>michael and calum decide not to break up when calum has to move away for school. it's both more complicated and simple than either expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stumble through it all

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gravityinglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gravityinglass/gifts).



> this is very very very late :x i've never written an au before so i hope it's okay aha christ and i'm sorry it deviated from the prompt so much i TRIED /hides

Michael’s life as he knows it comes to an abrupt and sleepy end one Friday afternoon. He’s only just stirred himself awake, is just starting to think about breakfast and his laptop when Calum comes bursting into his bedroom.

Michael tries to remember if they had plans that he’s forgotten or something - Calum looks stressed; flushed and breathing quick. Michael’s always pleased to see his boyfriend though. 

“You’re just in time to suck my dick,” Michael says cheerfully, flipping the covers off himself in a proud unveiling of said dick.

Calum laughs a little more hysterically than Michael would generally expect, eyeing Michael’s bared body. He climbs onto Michael’s bed on his knees, but doesn’t get to sucking his dick. “I gotta tell you something,” he says. He touches Michael’s chest, thumb stroking down his breastbone. 

Michael raises his eyebrows. It’s too early for vagueness, but just the right time for orgasms. His dick certainly thinks so anyway now that it’s heard the suggestion, already chubbed up. Michael slips his hand down to pat it. 

Calum laughs, an abrupt, choked sound. “I’m serious, can you put your dick away for one second?” 

“You love my dick,” Michael pouts, but he drags his covers back over the lower half of his body. “Come on then, what is it?” 

Calum extracts an envelope from the pockets of his jeans, unfolds it and takes out the paper inside. He looks at it instead of at Michael and says, “I got a scholarship. For soccer. For um, uni.”

“What?” Michael blinks. It only seems like yesterday Calum was stressed over his uni applications, but it must have been months if they’re sending out offers now. Michael tugs Calum down on top of him, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. “That’s awesome,” Michael says sincerely, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Course you did, you’re so fucking amazing.” 

Calum squirms happily, settling on top of Michael, nuzzling his face in against his neck. Michael is very proud of him. He has no idea how such a no hoper like him landed someone who has so much going for them. Michael squeezes his arms around Calum, and Calum says, quietly, “if I accept it I’ll have to move to Melbourne.”

“Oh,” Michael says, voice tight. He clears his throat, pats Calum’s back, tries not to freak out. “That’s, you know - that’s cool,” he says, unconvincingly.

“I’m not gonna go,” Calum says, wriggling against Michael as if it’d get him any closer.

Michael swallows. It’s not - it’s not that far, really. It’s not, even if having Calum in his bed pressed against him kind of doesn’t feel like close enough sometimes. It’s just a drive, or a really short plane trip. They could - it’s doable. It must be, because the idea that they might have to break up makes every cell in Michael’s body freezing cold.

Michael touches Calum’s cheek, stroking over the delicate rise of his cheekbone softly. “You don’t have to decide right now, yeah?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound so desperate but he’s so relieved when Calum just shakes his head.

“Okay,” Michael says, breathing out, “please kiss me, now.”

Calum raises his face from the crook of Michael’s neck looking pretty sorrowful. Michael closes his eyes and draws Calum closer, slipping his fingers into the back of his hair. Calum kisses him softly, Michael tries to focus on the feel of it instead of the swelling panic in his tummy.

Calum _has_ to accept it. It’d be fucking stupid not to. Michael should convince him, that’s what a good boyfriend would do, but it’s December and Michael figures they still have like two months before Calum would have to leave and he definitely doesn’t want to spend it trying to convince Calum to leave him. 

He’s definitely not going to ruin it by asking if they’re going to break up.

...

It’s all he can think about though and it weighs everything down, makes him clingy and his temper shorter. He wants Calum with him all the time before it’s too late, but he wants to push him away too, keep his distance, scared of how bad it’s going to feel when he’s gone. 

Michael’s weird and Calum’s weird too, it’s a whole bad weird time full of stuff neither of them want to talk about. It’s the end of the year and there’s a lot of parties to go to, so Michael decides to combat their shared unspoken misery with festive drunkenness. Not the best plan though, when four beers down Michael’s just sadder and worse, loose-lipped. 

He clings to Calum in his bed. He’s not sure how they got there - one second Michael’s holding court with some girls on a back porch almost in tears about how his boyfriend’s leaving him, and the next Cal’s got them on the train home, and then somehow Michael’s in his own comforting bed, and has given in to the needy urge to tug Calum down with him and ask him to stay.

“Sorry I’m the worst,” Michael mumbles. It feels like a lot of effort to talk, his eyes closed and his chest too heavy. His mouth feels clumsy and Calum’s wrist feels small and already slipping away from where he has his fingers curled tight around it.

“It’s okay, babe,” Calum mumbles. He pats Michael’s tummy and the dual waves of misery and fondness that roll over Michael are so intense that he groans. “What?” Calum laughs. 

“I’m so _sad_ ,” Michael huffs. 

“Aw, why?” Calum’s still clinging to their shared denial, then. It’s irritating. Michael squirms, pulling away and wriggling back until there’s enough space between them that he can look at Calum and make him face it too. 

“You _know_ why, you dick.” 

Calum looks guilty then, his mouth down-turned and eyes averted. He looks just as sad as Michael feels, which is kind of comforting in a way. “Been thinking about it,” Calum admits, reaching out. Michael’s relieved to take him up on the offer of his arms again. His resolve is for shit. He cuddles into his chest as Calum wraps him up in a tight hug and tucks his face in against Michael’s hair, his breath warm against his scalp. “Just come with me,” Calum squeezes Michael and fuck damnit, Michael’s gonna cry. 

He can feel it in his throat, tight and burning the same as his eyes scrunched shut, face buried in Calum’s t-shirt. “Can’t,” he croaks, fighting a sob back down with all of his manly might. “Don’t have any money - and, or - anything, don’t have anything,” Michael shakes his head to clear it, and then the thought falls to the front and Michael shudders, scrunches his fists in Calum’s shirt. “When you leave I won’t have anything.” 

“Mikey,” Calum says, like it hurts, grappling to squeeze him even tighter. Michael’s cheeks are burning and when he tries to breath, he accidently sobs instead. “Shut up,” Calum whines. 

“Sorry,” Michael tries to mumble, drawing in a deep shuddering breath. Calum cups the back of his head, draws his face up and kisses his cheek, and then his mouth. It tastes like salt, because Michael’s crying like a big dumb drunk baby and probably making Calum just even more anxious to leave him. 

Calum pulls away but only far enough to press their foreheads together, wiping Michael’s tears away with the edge of his sleeve. Michael thinks about how much he loves the smell of Calum’s breath.

“You have stuff, Mikey,” Calum says gently. 

Michael nods. Maybe he’s being a little overdramatic but fuck if it doesn’t feel like Calum’s his whole life. “You’re my best friend, I -” Michael pauses to suppress the welling up of another humiliating hiccupy sob. “I’ve always had you, even before we. You’ve always been there, and.”

“I’m not _dying_ , babe.” 

“I know, but,” Michael sniffs, and then breaks, basically wailing, “What will I even do?!”

Calum curls his hand around Michael’s and brings it to his mouth, kisses it. He kisses his finger over the x he was there to hold Michael’s hand for when he had it tattooed. “We’ll Skype, and have phone sex, and when you come and see me we’ll have really hot reunion sex,” Calum grins, biting at Michael’s knuckle.

“We’re not breaking up?” Michael asks, sniffing. 

“No,” Calum pulls back, frowning at him, “why? You want to?” 

“Fuck no,” Michael says fiercely and then basically dives into Calum’s chest and hugs him tighter than he ever has before. Calum laughs at him and Michael doesn’t even care because he doesn’t want to break up and he’s so relieved he thinks his chest is gonna explode. 

“And,” Calum says, “you could get a job and save some money, move up before first year’s even over.” 

Michael nods, but maybe that’s kind of an issue too. He was never good at school, like his marks were okay but actually getting there was a drag and missing class so much made the teachers all hate him, but it didn’t matter because Calum was there to laugh about it with him. When he dropped out in year ten it didn’t seem like such a big deal because Calum was always whining about how much homework he had and how lucky Michael was. The fact that, since then, Michael has failed to actually figure out what the fuck he wants to do instead of finishing school has also been okay because even if Michael’s a loser with no money sitting at home playing World of Warcraft all day, Calum still loves him, so who cares? But now, with Calum _leaving_ to go to _University_ it kinda drives it home that Michael should have some idea what he’s supposed to do with his life.

He could get a job, though. He doesn’t have his HSC but it’s not like he’s been in jail, right? He could totally get a job. Michael presses a kiss against Calum’s jaw. “Love you,” he mumbles. 

“Love you too,” Calum replies.

…

It’s easier after that, even though Michael feels the days pass by like a doomsday countdown. He tries to be brave, tries to be selfless. It’s a great opportunity for Cal, and Michael wants him to be happy. 

Christmas passes, and then January is drawing to a close, and then, with uni starting up mid-February, Calum’s leaving in the morning. Michael feels bad crashing the Hood’s last family dinner together but when Calum holds his hand as they all exit the restaurant, they feel just as much his family as Michael’s own. 

It’s weird when they get back to Calum’s, a strange quiet falls over them as they say goodnight to the others and get ready for bed, elbows bumping as they brush their teeth side by side at the bathroom sink, avoiding each other’s eyes in the mirror. 

Michael’s both imagined and dreaded this night, even though he tries to tell himself not to think of it as their last together. Calum’s bed is so familiar but the suitcase by the door isn’t. He doesn’t feel like he’s dying like he thought he would, just kind of numb. Calum settles next to him in bed and Michael rolls towards him automatically, second nature to cuddle close now. 

Calum puts his arm around him. “Alright?” he asks. 

Michael nods. “Yeah.” 

Under Calum’s soft-worn sheets their legs tangle, lock together to get closer. Michael rubs up the firm curve of Calum’s calf muscle with the flat top of his foot and smoothes his hand over Calum’s flat, warm tummy. Michael hopes the crests and plains of Calum’s body will remain as familiar to him as they are now, that he’ll remember every inch of Calum and what it feels like to hold his body close. 

“Mikey,” Calum says, a tense note to his voice that puts Michael on edge.

“Yeah?” 

“While I’m gone - if you wanna fuck other people, I won’t be mad.” 

“What?” Michael almost laughs. He sits up, hand planted on Calum’s chest. “I don’t wanna fuck other people.” 

“Yeah but, if you do. If you meet someone.” 

Michael laughs, frowning. “Where’m I gonna meet anyone?”

Calum shrugs. “It’s just sex. It wouldn’t change anything like, with us. Would it?” 

Michael shrugs. “Are you saying this because you wanna fuck other people?” 

“I just don’t wanna make it harder, being away from each other.” 

Michael hums, unsatisfied, his mind swimming with new dreadful possibilities. “ _Are_ you gonna fuck other people?” 

“I’m not like, planning on it,” Calum says, as if you could just fuck other people unplanned, like accidentally. “But, just hypothetically, how would you feel about it if I did?” 

Michael thinks about it and is surprised by the almost complete lack of fear and jealousy the thought conjures. They’ve always been pretty chill; just fell into a lazy kind of monogamy with each other as you do best friendships, no declarations needed. Michael’s been so comfortable and confident there that a test of his feelings on the matter just hasn’t ever come to be. Until now. “I guess,” Michael swallows, “it’d be okay.”

Calum grunts, and then rolls onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow and reaching his other hand down to curve over Michael’s hip, thumb stroking over dull bone. “Sometimes I think about like,” Calum pauses, sweeping his dark eyes slow up Michael’s body, “you with other people. It’s kinda hot,” Calum says with a shy little smile that Michael knows is just an act. There’s nothing shy about the way Calum relishes making pornagraphic confessions, but at least he pretends to have a little shame.

“Oh,” Michael laughs, surprised, eyebrows raised. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” Calum grins, bites his lip. His fingers curl into a fist on Michael’s hip, tickling a bit. Michael squirms closer to him, close enough to press himself into the firm muscle of Calum’s thigh, let him feel he’s just as casually turned on as always when Calum’s body is close to his own. 

It’s weird, Michael thinks, how something can feel so totally okay but also terrifying at the same time. He has come to live with the fact that Calum’s leaving and now it’s like it’s normal. The doom and dread and heartbreak of it all is still there somewhere, but Michael feels safe in it, or accustomed to it, or something. He knows Calum loves him and he knows they’ll be okay, anyway. 

“You wouldn’t be into it?” Calum asks with the same hesitance with which he first suggested they swap handjobs; the most grand and romantic of teenage seductions. Michael didn’t exactly need to be seduced, though.

He could probably fuck another person if he was horny enough. The problem is, he’s so lazy that his romantic compass couldn’t even be bothered looking outside his best friend for potential romantic partners, so the likelihood of ever meeting someone else to fuck is pretty slim. Maybe a week or so alone with his own right hand might change things, though. Michael can’t predict the future. Michael never would have guessed Calum would ever have liked him back in the first place, never would’ve guessed he’d ever be leaving him, either. 

Michael shrugs and presses his face against Calum’s neck, breathing in deep. Calum tightens his arm around him, and it eases the fresh wave of sadness. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen,” Michael says, “but you’re really hot so people will want to fuck you and sex is awesome so I don’t want you to miss out.”

“Right?” Calum says with enough feeling that it comes out too loud and makes Michael startle a little. Looking sheepish, he adds, “I don’t want you to miss out either.” 

It’s sweet, in a weird way, which is kind of the story of their entire relationship. “So, what,” Michael says with a half smile, swinging his thigh over Calum’s under the blankets. Calum slips his hand down and strokes his palm up Michael’s thigh, right up to the leg of his boxers and then squirms his fingers underneath. It always makes Michael feel good, how Calum just can’t seem to get at enough of his skin. “We’re fucking other people now?”

Calum hums and pushes his hand further up the leg of Michael’s shorts, around to squeeze his ass. Michael smiles and pushes his hips lazily against Calum. “If you’re cool with it,” Calum says, his voice gone all low. Michael nods, satisfied. “We’ll tell each other, right? I’d wanna know.”

Michael thinks about it and decides he would too. He’d drive himself crazy wondering otherwise. “Okay,” he says, leaning up, “m’not gonna meet anyone though.”

He presses a kiss to Calum’s mouth and Calum returns it, holding him closer. “Just in case,” Calum mumbles, but Michael’s too eager for another kiss to bother with the conversation any longer. He bites at Calum’s bottom lip, draws him into a kiss hot enough to put any thoughts of fucking other people far out of their minds for now.

...

Michael wears the Green Day shirt Calum slept in to go with him and his family to the airport. On the way home, Mali holds his hand in the backseat and leans her head on his shoulder, tells him, “you’ll be alright, Mikey.” Michael is grateful but he can’t imagine how she could possibly be right.

After Joy drops him off Michael goes into his room and sits on his bed. It’s stupid how empty the room looks, it’s not like Calum lived there or anything, and there’s still enough of his shit strewn about, but still. Michael feels empty, looking at it.

He takes out his phone and opens his texts, sends two, both to Calum, who probably hasn’t even touched down in Melbourne yet.

_this is fcked i hate u_ , the first says, and then; _come back :(_

He feels pathetic and sad but there’s no way around it, only through it. He closes his messages and opens Facebook instead, posting a new status with a sigh.

_really need a fucking job_

He _has_ to find a job. 

…

While Michael is super aware of the fact he _needs_ a job, he hasn’t actually taken any steps towards getting one when he does. Mostly he just lies in his bed and sighs and listens to nu metal - but then Geordie texts him.

Michael doesn’t see Geordie much anymore, not since school finished and she started working a lot and mostly hanging out with her work crew. Michael doesn’t mind - he’s pretty much only been hanging out with Calum to be fair, and it’s not like they’re neglecting each other, people just get busy, right? Michael’s pleased to hear from her anyway, firstly because she’s really great and fun and he’s always loved her - before, during and after they dated - and secondly, because she says in her text, that they’re short staffed at her work and if he’s serious about needing a job she’s tight with her boss and can totally get him in. 

Michael hits pause on the Godsmack track he’s listening to and calls her, and then twenty minutes later he’s feeling heaps better, almost hopeful, and has plans for coffee with her _and_ a job interview the next night. 

…

Geordie picks him up an hour before her shift starts, which is also when Michael’s interview is, and they head to their old haunting ground - the McDonald's a block from their old high school. 

They order cheeseburgers and chips and chocolate shakes like always, Michael’s without pickles or onion like always, which Geordie teases him about, like always, and sit opposite each other in the back-corner booth that still has ‘MC + GG 4eva’ carved into the wall just under the lip of the table. 

“So you’re like a free agent now?” Geordie says, licking tomato sauce off her lip. 

“A what?” Michael frowns. She rolls her eyes and Michael feels just as dumb and uncool as he did in high school. 

“Single, dummy.” 

“Oh - no, no, well,” Michael flounders, and then chokes trying to swallow a chunk of cheeseburger too hard. He sucks at his thickshake to wash it down, but is hit with instant brainfreeze. He cringes and she laughs. “Sort of,” he says weakly, once he can manage it. 

Geordie just raises her eyebrow and pops a chip into her mouth, chewing expectantly, waiting for Michael to go on. Michael places his palms flat on the plastic tabletop and takes a deep breath. He could lie, he doesn’t _have_ to say anything other than they’re not broken up, but he really hasn’t attempted to process the change in his and Calum’s relationship yet, too caught up in the agony of him leaving to really think, so the chance to talk it out with someone is pretty appealing. And who better than Geordie? She already knows heaps of embarrassing things about him and still likes him, so. 

Plus, it’s kind of cool, isn’t it? To be in an open relationship. Michael feels like only cool, chill, evolved people can probably be in them. Which is something he officially aspires to. “We didn’t break up,” Michael says. 

“Long distance?” Geordie asks in a tone caught between sympathy and boredom. 

“Well, yeah, but also we’re sleeping with other people.” He watches her face for her reaction and it’s just as satisfying as he hoped. It’s a surprised, impressed kind of look. 

“Nice,” she says, and then offers her fist for him to bump his own against. Somehow he manages to transfer a smudge of mustard from his own knuckle to hers. She laughs and licks it off, and then takes a sip of her shake, looking towards the playground for a contemplative minute. “I don’t know if I could do that,” she says. 

“Yeah?” 

“Mm, like. I mean, I’m sure it’s dumb and just stupid insecurities or something,” she screws up her nose self-deprecatingly, “but what if they met someone they liked better than me?”

Michael’s tummy wobbles. That’s what he’s scared of, if he’s honest with himself. It must show on his face, because Geordie reaches across the table and punches him in the shoulder, very softly. “But you guys were best friends first,” she says earnestly, “you can’t like anyone more than that.” 

Michael smiles gratefully, and takes another chip, nodding. “Yeah, I guess. I’m not too worried,” he lies, shaking his fringe off his face. She smiles at him like she wants him to know that she believes him but doesn’t really.

“It’ll make it easier at least,” she says, “being apart.”

“Yeah, that’s what Cal said,” Michael still isn’t convinced on that one. She raises her eyebrows and presses her lips together and Michael knows she’s stopping herself from saying something out of diplomacy. He doesn’t press for it, looking away instead, and takes another sip of his thickshake. “Anyway, I need tips for this interview. I need money so I can move to Melbourne before Cal falls in love with anyone else,” he laughs, but it’s wobbly, and kind of a shock to himself, not really realising the truth of the fear until the words are out. He pulls his sleeves down over his hands, feeling vulnerable, his smile feeling fake. 

“Oh, you got this, my boss loves me, don’t worry,” she says, and then changes the subject. Michael is grateful. 

Michael is _really_ grateful, because he does get the job, and the interview isn’t so much an interview as a first shift. Geordie teaches him how to pull beers, which he manages, just, but he’s better at mixing cocktails, and totally completely useless at working the till. It’s awkward at first, talking to customers, juggling money, remembering orders and which kind of glass he should put them in, but it gets easier after the first hour or so, and then it gets so busy that he just kind of gets lost in it. 

It’s not that hard. Mostly he just has to do what he’s told, but by the end of the night he’s sweaty and tired and his shoes are soaked in beer and his throat’s sore from yelling over the music, but he feels good. He did it. He got a job. He can save up money and move and be with Calum and no one will have to fuck anyone else and everything will be fine. 

Getting home, he Skypes with Calum for the first time. He’s so excited to tell him about the job, and Calum’s reaction isn’t a disappointment, though it does make Michael a little sad to see the tiny empty room assigned to him by on-campus accommodation, but overall Michael ends up feeling much more hopeful about the entire situation. It’s only a matter of time now until he’s in Melbourne with his own place so Cal won’t even ever have to stay in his depressing little uni room if he doesn’t want to. 

They talk until Calum falls asleep with his head resting on his folded arms and Michael has to yell into the microphone to wake him up. Calum looks very cute when he’s half asleep and Michael misses him more than ever. 

…

Two weeks later and already their texts are getting further apart, but Michael tries not to freak out about it too much - he knows Calum has a lot going on, his first week of uni and everything, and Michael’s pretty busy learning the ropes at the pub, but it’s still there in the back of his mind. They’ve been trying to find a minute to Skype again for three days, and with each delay - Calum has a library tour, then his first soccer practice, then a meeting with his English Lit study group - Michael becomes more disheartened. 

The girls at the pub have taken him under their collective wing though, and Michael takes a little more pleasure in being fawned over than he would normally. He works a lot, and sometimes even when he’s not working he sits around in the pub just for the company. No one seems to mind, so long as it’s not busy, which is okay because then no one has any time to talk to him anyway. It’s pretty much always busy in the evenings, although not until so late on weeknights, and crazy on weekends. Afternoons, however, are pretty relaxed, at least Michael thought, until he walked in at 2pm on a Thursday afternoon for a shift and finds the bar packed with mostly young-ish girls. Like, probably underage, and sure enough, he notices Jackie at the bar drawing big obnoxious ‘x's on the backs of both hands of two plaid shirt-wearing girls. 

Going to chuck his jacket in the storeroom, he bumps into Geordie. She hands him a carton of Bacardi Breezers and grabs one herself. “What’s going on?” Michael asks, trotting after her as she nudges past him back out to the bar. 

He deposits his box on the floor beside hers with a grunt and tries not to gasp audibly when she flicks open a stanley knife and stab-slices into the top of the first box. She retracts the blade and slides the knife neatly into the back pocket of her jeans. It’s kind of sexy.

“It’s Luke,” she says, ripping bottles out of the box and loading them into the fridge. 

“Luke?” 

“Yeah, Luke Hemmings,” she says slowly, significantly, like Michael should really know. “He was in the year under us at school,” she says when Michael continues to look blankly at her.

Michael squints, trying to place a Luke Hemmings, but fails. “What does he look like?”

“You remember! He used to play assemblies and post videos on Youtube and you always said you hated him.”

“Oh! _That_ Luke Hemmings,” Michael rolls his eyes. “What the fuck is that dickhead doing here?” Michael asks. Geordie raises her eyebrows at him, which is fair, because Michael never had a very good reason to hate him, except that he was kind of weaselly-looking and popular, and also it’s probably not super professional to bitch out the hired so-called talent on the job.

Geordie laughs as she finishes stocking the Breezers and kicks the fridge closed. “Look, he’s not terrible,” she shrugs, and then nods at the small crowd milling around the bar, still coming through the door, “he draws a crowd, so Adam likes him - he wants to book him every week.”

“Ugh,” Michael says, with feeling, and then Jackie, who’s been manning the bar on her own thus far, calls for the highballs out of the dishwasher, and Michael scurries off to actually earn the wages he needs so bad.

...

The Luke that takes to the stage is not the Luke that Michael remembers from year eight. 

Well, he hears him first. 

Michael’s out the back trying to find a box of promotional Jack Daniels coasters when he hears a modest uprising of cheers from the main room of the pub - it’s enough of a noise that Michael notices, but not enough to pull him up short like it does - stopping him dead in the doorway with a stack of coasters clutched in each hand - when, after some incoherent amplified low-voiced mumbling and a fairly stock standard intro of acoustic guitar, Luke starts singing. 

Recognition hits Michael somewhere very low in his tummy. He knows the song, it’s a cover of Check Yes Juliet, but it’s more, it’s the voice singing it too. It’s definitely the same one that he rolled his eyes at and sarcastically applauded after during school assembly. It’s the same, Michael feels the recognition in an almost physical way, but it’s different - it’s more, it’s _worse_. Where his voice was a little strained, a little wobbly, where he wavered on high notes and cracked on low ones, all he is now is clear and strong, effortless and smooth. Michael’s breath is caught in his throat the same way it did the first time he heard Billie Joe Armstrong’s voice, or Gerard Way’s. He breathes out. He has goosebumps.

He tries not to look too obvious and wide-eyed as he emerges back into the bar, but it just gets worse when he’s closer and it becomes clear that there hasn’t been some wretched misunderstanding, that it is _Luke Hemmings_ whose voice is making the hair on the back of Michael’s neck stand on end. 

Michael snatches greedy glances towards the end of the room where the small stage sits and at the boy performing on it, craning his neck to see better as he distractedly takes an order from a harried looking middle-aged woman. 

Luke doesn’t look the same, either. 

Like his voice, Luke is broader, taller, slender in a way so catastrophically different to the weedy nerd he was in school. His body curves in an earnest lean towards the microphone as he sings, acoustic guitar almost small-looking in his long arms. While Michael can’t see that well from this far away when he’s trying (not very hard) to look like he _isn’t_ looking, it’s kind of obvious that Luke has grown into his previously weasel-ish face.

Michael tries to focus on the glass he’s currently pouring Coke into, but his attention is drawn back again and again. Luke finishes the song and thanks the room for singing along with him in a voice far deeper than Michael remembers, and a shy, dimpled smile that makes Michael’s gut twist with a feeling he remembers all too clearly. 

…

Michael feels terrifically wrung out by the time he gets home that night. It’s barely even seven but he’s ready to crawl into bed, so he does, fully clothed, and opens his laptop. Skype says Calum’s online, so Michael calls him without even thinking twice. 

When Calum answers he’s sitting at his desk without a shirt on, thick books open in front of him and a notebook open in the middle of it all. Michael never really thought of Calum as very academically minded, but then Michael dropped out in year nine before he got a chance to see Calum ace a bunch of his exams, so. It suits him anyway, and it’s nice to see him, all warm and glowing too far away under the low light of his desk lamp. Michael feels immediately comforted.

“Hey Mikey,” Calum says. He sounds tired but happy. On the screen he drops his pen and cradles his chin in his hand, tilting the screen so Michael has a better angle on his eyelevel. He’s wearing a hat Michael bought him for Christmas. “I stayed here to do my readings instead of heading to the library hoping you’d come on.” 

Michael checks his phone, but there’s no new messages. “Aw, you should have texted.”

“Nah,” Cal shrugs, “didn’t wanna bother you if you were busy.” 

Michael feels like yelling, _Bother me!!! Please always bother me!!_ , but instead he curls his pillow up under his face and smiles into the screen. “You’re so cute getting your study on,” Michael mumbles.

Calum’s eyes crease up with his smile and he leans closer to the screen, slumping down in his seat. Michael wishes he could reach through the screen and cuddle him, but it’s still really good to see his face. “Shut up,” Calum laughs, warm and low, “I have to, man. There’s just so much to _read_ all the time.”

“You look tired though. Don’t work too hard.” 

Calum scoffs, sitting up and adjusting the angle of his hat. The lamp light does great things for his arm muscles. “As if I’m going to move down here and not get to see you all the time and then _fail_. Hell no. Fuck that.” 

Michael laughs and rolls onto his back, looking at the screen sideways. “Fair enough,” he says. 

Calum sighs. “You look comfy. I wish I was there.” Michael can hear the pout in his voice without even looking to see it on his face. It’s super pathetic and Michael loves him a lot. 

“Me too,” Michael agrees. 

“Were you working?” 

“Mm - yeah. I just got home. Man, the weirdest thing though,” Michael says, and then tells Calum about Luke, about how good he’s got since school, about the intense kind of following he brought with him to the pub. Calum remembers him, of course, saying he always knew Luke’d end up doing music, that he used to watch his stuff on Youtube and he thought he was great even then, which tugs at Michael the wrong way, a little. 

He’s close to irritated and it’s getting late anyway, so he’s about to say goodnight when Calum says, “wait, uh, I gotta tell you something.” 

Michael rolls onto his tummy to give Calum his proper attention because his tone demands it; he can hear that much even through the fog of tired settled heavily over him. Swallowing, he prompts, “Yeah?”

Calum rubs his left collarbone with his right hand, slim wrist crossing his chest, fingertips stroking the length of the feather inked there from memory alone. Michael’s fingers remember it too. Calum says, “remember how we talked about seeing other people?”

“Yeah,” Michael says, but he knows what Calum’s about to say. He’s been waiting for it. 

“I think I met someone,” Calum says. Michael blinks and says nothing. All he can see is Calum’s own hand on his bare chest, and all he can imagine is someone else’s hand there too now. “Sort, of, um, he -”

“ _He_?” Michael spits. 

“Yeah, _he_. What?” Calum says defensively, crossing his arms and scowling. 

Michael reels himself back in. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s not what he was expecting but it’s fine. Somehow, it’s just never occurred to him that Calum might actually be into dudes. Despite the relationship he’s in with Michael and the amount of dick intimacy that actually involves. “Uh, nothing. What? Go on,” Michael huffs. 

Calum keeps his frown, but he uncrosses his arms. “He’s this guy, Ashton. He’s. I met him at the gym. He’s really nice, but I don’t know if he’s like. Into me. But he’s,” Calum raises his eyebrows, all wide eyes, “really hot.”

“Oh my god,” Michael says, covering his face, “this is so weird that you’re saying this to me.” He doesn’t even feel jealous really, it’s more surreal than anything. It’s not like they never jerked off over Jack Barakat fantasies together before. But obviously Calum wasn’t about to actually go fuck Jack Barakat, so. 

“No it’s not,” Calum says defensively.

“It kind of is,” Michael shrugs. “Fine, okay. So, what?” 

“We said we’d talk about it before we did anything, so I’m talking about it.” 

“Cool. Great. I hope you have a great time fucking some guy while I jerk off by myself _again_.”

“Stop being mad! I won’t do anything if you don’t want me to, all right?” 

Michael sighs, rubbing his hands over his eyes. It’s not what he wants. Probably. What he wants is for Calum to quit uni and come home and cuddle him forever, but he knows that that’s stupid and selfish and no good. What he _really_ wants, if he can dig down to the most mature parts of himself, most of all, what he wants is for Calum to be happy. 

“No, sorry, it’s okay,” Michael says, but Calum doesn’t look very convinced. “Really,” he insists, feeling a little ashamed. “I’m just jealous. I miss you a lot.” 

“I miss you a lot, too,” Calum says softly. “Part of me thinks like, what’s the point anyway? No one’s gonna be as awesome as you.” 

“Damn right,” Michael says. He has to make a joke of it because he doesn’t really know what to do with Calum being sweet when he can’t kiss him like he usually would.

“He probably won’t be into me anyway, he’s probably not even into guys.” 

“He’d have to be literally insane,” Michael tells him, and means it, because Calum’s like the hottest person on the whole planet, and he honestly can’t imagine _anyone_ turning him down. Calum grins, easy for a compliment, and Michael rolls his eyes. “Shut up. You know.” 

Calum makes a smug face, which suits him. Calum’s self-assurance is one of the hottest things about him. Michael’s always loved his easy brand of confidence. It’s not even that Calum thinks he’s super good looking or anything, it’s more like it’s just never occurred to him that there could be anything wrong about the way he looks. 

“I guess we’ll find out,” Calum says with a shrug. 

“Yeah,” Michael agrees. “I guess we will.”

They say goodnight and Michael lies awake in his bed for a long while, brooding. He wonders what Ashton looks like mostly, and wishes a little bit that he could meet him first and make sure he’s not some asshole who’s gonna hurt Calum. He does trust Calum’s judgement, though. He trusts Calum in general. 

He’d been dreading this development since Calum first brought up the whole idea, but now that it’s happening Michael’s surprised to find it doesn’t feel nearly as bad as he thought. It’s nice to think that someone might be able to give Calum the kisses he deserves while he’s too far away for Michael to reach. 

Without Calum’s face on his laptop screen to distract him, Michael’s mind slips easily back to Luke, the memory of his voice and his smile as he performed playing over and over. If Michael wasn’t so tired he’d open his laptop back up and find the videos on Youtube everyone keeps talking about, but as it is, Michael goes to sleep with his thoughts drifting in a tangle of Luke and his guitar, of Calum and a stranger.

…

Everything smells of beer and sweat, of too many bodies too close together. It’s the end of a particularly rowdy Friday night shift, and Michael’s ears are ringing. His throat is sore from yelling over the music across the bar. Luke Hemmings performed again tonight, and the crowd was twice as big as last time. It’s fun and it’s great for business, but Michael’s glad it’s over. He’s looking forward to getting home to his nice quiet room and his nice quiet bed where there’s no familiar confusing feelings about tall blond boys on stage.

He grabs the last bag of rubbish and heads out the back way to dump it and wait for Geordie to finish up. The cold hits him sharply as he steps out but it’s a nice reprieve from the stuffy indoors. He closes his eyes as the door swings shut behind him, standing under the light of the single bulb above the door for a moment to drink in the cool, calm quiet and soak in the satisfying weariness of a night’s hard work.

“Uh, hey.”

Michael jumps, dropping his bag of rubbish but managing to suppress his squeal. “Shit,” he swears, embarrassed, as Luke emerges from the shadows across the alley.

“Sorry,” Luke says, at least.

“Jesus christ.” Michael, heart hammering, snatches the bag back up and dumps it in the skip. “What are you _doing?_ ” He doesn’t even bother trying to make it sound polite seeing how Luke isn’t trying very hard to keep the amused smile off his face. 

“Am I not allowed to be back here?” Luke’s smile fades. Offstage, he looks a lot less sure of himself, and a lot smaller, though he’s still a smidge taller than Michael and definitely like, six times as wide. “My - uh, ride, is late, and I felt weird waiting on the street, so I thought -”

“No, it’s fine,” Michael interrupts. “It doesn’t matter. You just surprised me.” 

“Yeah,” Luke cracks another smile, and this time Michael can’t help sharing it, rolling his eyes at himself.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. Luke grins, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Michael tries very hard not to stare at his lip ring. 

“Wait - you look, do I know you?” Luke asks with a tilt of his head, stepping closer and peering at Michael’s face. 

“We went to the same school,” Michael says self-consciously. 

Realisation dawns on Luke’s face, but Michael’s still surprised to hear him say, “Michael.” 

“Yep,” Michael confirms, trying to remember how openly an asshole he was to Luke back in school as he studies the suddenly super fascinating scuffed toes of his Converse.

“You changed your hair,” Luke says. Michael looks up, surprised, unconsciously reaching up to touch the spiky mess of the back of his hair - freshly dyed red on a whim only a day ago.

“Oh - I dunno if I’ll keep it,” Michael says, feeling clumsy, like he’s fumbling his words, “it’s like, really bright.” 

“You should. It looks good,” Luke says, looking him over in a way that Michael is somehow able to feel. Michael is glad for the creepy shadowy dull overhead lighting as he blushes. 

“Thanks?” Michael manages, distracted by the sudden and horrifyingly hopeful feeling that maybe he’s being _hit on_. Taking his chances, and summoning his courage, he says, “We can - do you want a lift?” 

“Oh,” Luke pulls out his phone and looks at it, “uh…”

“It’s fine if, whatever,” Michael hurries to backtrack, “we’re probably gonna go hang out anyway, so.”

“My brother’s being a dick,” Luke says, huffing and shoving his phone back in his pocket. “He’s not answering. He was supposed to be here two hours ago. I think he’s with his girlfriend.”

“We can totally take you home,” Michael says eagerly, trumpets heralding fanfare in his mind. Luke’s a damsel in distress and Michael is totally his knight in shining armor right now. 

“You don’t have to. I don’t wanna - you said you have plans,” Luke says, shifting awkwardly on his feet. 

“No, it’s totally fine.”

Luke still looks hesitant. “You sure?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Michael nods, “me and Geordie just go get Maccas that’s all.” 

“Man, I could really go a cheeseburger,” Luke admits. 

“So come.” 

After a second, Luke says, “okay.” Michael feels like fist pumping but restrains himself. “Thanks,” Luke says, “I’ll give you petrol money.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Michael waves his hand dismissively, “Geordie’s driving.” 

“Nice,” Luke laughs and Michael can’t hold his grin in; it feels so good.

“I’ll, um,” Michael backs up, reaching for the door handle behind him, “go see how long she’s gonna be.”

He slips inside, hoping Geordie will be cool with him offering lifts to people on her behalf, and also hoping she will have some kind of idea of what the chances are that he’s not imagining it and Luke’s totally into guys and maybe totally flirting with him.

...

Geordie does not know anything about anything but Luke pays for their cheeseburgers as thanks for driving him home, so it’s not a total bust. Michael tries to reconcile himself to the fact that Luke is probably not into him, but it’s hard when he’s unable to look Luke in the eye without getting flustered. Before Luke gets out of the car, though, he asks for Michael’s number, and then Michael’s too buzzed to even care that Geordie teases him the whole way home.

The excited kind of loopy giddiness that comes with Luke’s first text the next morning is quickly crushed by confusing feelings of guilt. Staring at his phone, he tries to remember the last time his tummy felt weird when Calum sent him a message, but he can’t. When Calum texts him later that morning Michael feels happy but not like he’s going to explode, and it can’t be right, can it? 

In the shower, Michael stares at the tiles between his feet, the water pooling and swirling down the drain, and feels soggy with a sense of doom. He loves Calum and he misses Calum. Calum feels safe and warm, and it must - it has to be just that Luke’s new and that makes him exciting.

Well, sort of new. It’s very clear now - a couple years older, and a lot more comfortable in himself - why, exactly, he hated Luke Hemmings so much in grade eight. Back then, Luke was well-liked and talented in a way Michael craved. Not only, though, did Michael want popularity and the self-discipline to get better than he could be bothered being at guitar, but when he watched Luke on stage in their school auditorium, packed shoulder to shoulder with his peers, the craving Michael felt then was more than that, and deeply unsettling. 

Sitting in that auditorium, watching Luke, it made Michael feel sick. It made Michael unable to ignore the way that, seated next to him, Calum’s thigh pressed against his own. When Luke’s performance ended and Calum’s applause was earnest where Michael’s dripped with sarcasm, when Calum elbowed him without even taking his eyes off Luke to tell him how awesome Luke is, Michael’s chest tightened with jealousy. 

So, he hated Luke. He made fun of Luke and hated himself. And then, some months later, when Michael kissed Calum for the first time, he forgot all about Luke. Now, Michael’s wondering what might’ve happened if he was braver then, what might happen if he’s brave enough now.

He should talk to Calum. 

…

Predictably, it takes a bit of fucking around to get them both in front of their laptops at the same time again. During the week it takes for Michael to get Calum on Skype, he’s spent a considerable amount of time exchanging texts with Luke. They talk about music a lot and Michael discovers they like a lot of the same bands, especially older Good Charlotte, and Green Day. He also discovers that Luke is really weird, super funny, and that he really wants Luke to like him. 

Which means that _he_ really likes Luke, and really liking someone makes Michael feel self-conscious and vulnerable and nervous, and so, it’s actually very difficult to bring it up when he’s finally got Calum on the other side of his laptop screen.

He’s working up the nerve as Calum talks him through his day.

“And then I had to train for a bit, and Ash was at the gym, so,” he says, dropping Ashton’s name in a pointedly casual way.

“How’s that going then?” Michael asks teasingly, hoping to distract from the squirm of confusion in his tummy. He _is_ curious, but he’s scared too; scared that Calum’s gonna get hurt, scared that Calum will realise he’s been wasting his time with Michael all along. 

Calum pauses a moment, smiling small and private like there’s a joke Michael’s not in on. Michael wonders if he’s already fucked him. “Alright,” Calum shrugs, “we’ve been working out together sometimes.” 

“Hot,” Michael says flatly.

Calum laughs. “He’s like, a health science major, so he keeps nagging me about the sugar content in stuff,” Calum says, nose wrinkled, sounding horribly stupidly fond. “He’s really cool. You’d like him - he’s into music, he’s a drummer.” Calum has such a _type_. Not that Michael’s a musician or anything, but Calum turns into a guaranteed puddle of goo every time Michael picks up his guitar.

“He’s in a band?” 

Calum shrugs. “I think he plays in some, nothing serious though.”

“That’s cool,” Michael says weakly. His fears aren’t eased, but now he’s thinking of Luke again. He wonders how serious Luke is about _his_ music. He should ask him. 

“Michael,” Calum says sharply. Michael blinks at him. “If I wanted to break up I’d just say, okay?”

Michael breathes out. Of course Calum knows the fears lurking in Michael’s subconscious even before he does. Calum just knows him so well. “Yeah,” Michael says with relief. Calum looks at him hard for another moment, and then smiles. 

He’s right, and likewise, if Michael _wanted_ to break up with Calum he’d know, he’d feel it. It doesn’t feel wrong to love Calum and want Luke as well. It feels scary, and big, but not wrong. The idea of trying to explain his situation with Calum to Luke makes him nervous though; he doesn’t want Luke to think it’s weird. He doesn’t want Luke to think _he’s_ weird. 

“Are you going to tell uh, Ashton, about me?” Michael asks. 

Now Calum looks a little guilty. “I mean, it’s not like I’m hiding that fact I have a boyfriend or anything.” 

“Oh?” Michael raises a doubtful eyebrow and Calum squirms.

“I will,” he says firmly. “I don’t want to lie. I’m not ashamed of you.” 

“That’s reassuring,” Michael says. Calum gives him a withering look. “Why haven’t you told him yet then?” 

“It’s awkward, okay. I like him, I don’t want to scare him off. It’s hard to just drop it into conversation.” 

“You like someone who’d be scared off by you having a boyfriend?” 

“Not like that - I just mean, I don’t know. Just wait, you’ll see how weird this is when you meet someone you wanna fuck,” Calum mumbles grumpily, mostly to himself.

“Well,” Michael says, “maybe I have.”

“Pfft, as if. You would’ve told me already,” Calum says, and it’s such a confidently casual dismissal that Michael feels too guilty to correct him. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Listen, just tell him and see what happens. If he freaks out then like, fuck him. You don’t want someone like him around anyway.” 

“That’s good advice,” Calum says. 

“I know, I’m awesome.” 

“You are,” Calum agrees, and then yawns extravagantly. It’s very cute, especially how he rubs his fist into his eye afterwards. 

“Go to bed,” Michael tells him. 

“Yeah, I should,” Calum smiles at Michael through the screen tiredly, his eyes soft. “Miss you Mikey.” 

“I miss you too,” Michael says. He misses Calum and he misses how simple things were when he was there and he could just climb into bed with him and Calum would know what he’s not saying by the way his breath sounds, or something. It’s hard going without being known like that once you’ve had it. 

Michael wants it back, and he wants Luke. He doesn’t know if Luke wants him too, but he has to find out. 

…

So, Michael invites Luke over to his house. He considers it a bold move, and it takes him two days and two beers to manage it, and even then it’s over text. But Luke says yes.

Michael’s very nervous as he leads Luke into his room. He feels maybe twelve years old, worrying if Luke will think his stuff is cool. Luke stops in Michael’s bedroom doorway and Michael turns to watch him survey the inside of his room, watches his eyes draw over the band posters on his walls, the pokemon sheets on his bed, his guitar propped up in the corner by the door.

“I didn’t know you play,” Luke says, his fingers reaching out like it’s subconscious, the tips of them brushing the tuning pegs. 

Michael’s blushing. “Yeah, I’m not great or anything. Not like you.” 

Luke raises an eyebrow and picks up Michael’s guitar. There’s something super hot about the sure, confident way his hand wraps around the neck of it. Michael wants him to touch him like that. 

Luke pushes the guitar at Michael. “Play me something,” he says. 

“Uh,” Michael backs off, starts to shake his head, but Luke’s insistent. 

“You’ve seen me play, I wanna see you. It’s only fair,” Luke pouts, which isn’t fair at all.

Shit. Michael sits on the edge of his bed and pulls his guitar into his lap. He tries to think, fingers settling into a chord automatically, but his palms are sweaty. Knees weak, arms are heavy. 

He quirks an eyebrow and carefully starts to play the riff from Lose Yourself, gaining confidence when Luke’s eyes light up and he laughs. Looking up at him, Michael feels like his eyes are sparkling out of his head. 

Luke nods along and then in a voice pitched lower and stuffy with suppressed giggles, with a very serious face, he raps, “His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy. There’s vomit on his sweater, mom’s spaghetti -” And then Michael just can’t do it anymore because Luke’s _so_ cute; he collapses into laughter, folded over his guitar, fingers tight on the frets. 

“Hey,” Luke laughs, grabbing Michael’s shoulder and shaking him a little, “I didn’t say you could stop, hey.” 

“Sorry, sorry. You’re just so _lame_ ,” Michael shakes his head. Luke pouts at him and Michael wants to kiss him so bad he has to bite his own lip just for the sensation.

Michael's left his laptop open, and it chooses that moment to interrupt with a loud, obnoxious incoming call on Skype. “Shit, sorry,” Michael says, glancing at the screen. It's Calum. He feels a jolt of guilt for the slight annoyance he feels.

“You can answer it,” Luke says.

Michael hesitates, flustered. It keeps ringing. Luke peers at the laptop screen, raising his eyebrows at the full frontal nudity in Calum's display picture. “It's my,” Michael cuts himself off, unsure, not wanting to be forced into the confession without a tactical plan. He jumps up from his seat on his bed and pushes Luke towards it. In a moment of inspiration, he says, “you should answer it!”

“Uh,” Luke says, laughing awkwardly. He plonks down on Michael's bed beside his laptop.

“Yeah,” Michael insists, curious to see what might happen when they’re faced with each other. Surely when Calum sees what Luke looks like now he’ll understand Michael’s situation. “It'll be funny. Answer and say you're my uh, boyfriend,” Michael laughs awkwardly, doubting himself, “or something.”

Luke's eyebrows raise further. Michael grins with all his teeth. What the fuck. He's so bad on the spot. But Luke just shrugs and reaches for the trackpad, and then there's voices mumbling indistinctly. Luke angles the screen up so it's not pointed so much at his chest and Michael watches his face from behind the screen, wishing he could see what Luke can only so he can better judge the expression on his face.

Calum sounds _so_ confused through the speakers. “Oh – what? Who're you?” Michael has to cover his mouth with both his hands to stifle his giggle. Yeah, no, this was the best idea ever.

“I'm uh,” Luke glances up at Michael. The corner of his mouth twitches, in on the joke. “I'm Luke - Michael's boyfriend?”

Even though he doesn't sound so sure of himself, Michael’s tummy still flips happily at the words, and then drops out his ass at the sound of Calum's voice, suddenly louder and tense with indignation, “Uh, no you're not. _I'm_ Michael's boyfriend. Who the fuck are you?” Luke's face pales.

Then, a second voice from the computer Michael doesn't recognise. They sound very mad. “Excuse me? You're whose boyfriend?” 

“No, Ash,” Calum says and Michael swears. What the fuck - Ashton wasn’t supposed to be there. Christ, so Calum’s pissed and now he’s fucked things over with Ash for him?

Michael slams his laptop shut. A second later, the sound cuts out. He looks at Luke, mortified, and Luke blinks up at him.

“I’m sorry about that. I just thought it would be funny. I didn’t know he’d, uh,” Michael trails off. He’s sorry for everything but particularly for how he’s so sure he’s completely fucked his chances with Luke. 

“It’s okay,” Luke says. He still looks kind of stunned. Michael pushes the laptop a little further away from him, as if it might help. 

“You must think I’m really weird,” Michael says.

“Is he really your boyfriend?” Luke asks. 

“Yes.” 

“Oh.” Luke just looks so crestfallen even his quiff seems to be drooping. “Well, I feel dumb. I thought we, uh,” Luke laughs self-deprecatingly, wrinkles his nose, “I thought you were into me.” 

“I am,” Michael says.

“But you have a boyfriend.”

“I do, but. We’re um. He’s gone, and, oh my god,” Michael babbles, trying to explain himself all at once, his overexcited heart tripping and making him feel a little dizzy. 

Luke reaches out and grabs onto Michael’s hand, and Michael goes calm and still, looks down at Luke’s hand holding his between them. He breathes. “We’re in an open relationship. He’s in Melbourne for uni. We agreed to fuck other people while he’s gone.” 

“Oh,” Luke drops his hand. “Well. I’m not good at hook ups.”

“Oh, no. I don’t want,” Michael scrambles to grab onto Luke’s hand again. He takes it between both of his own and looks at Luke as sincerely as he can. “I don’t just wanna hook up. I really,” Michael swallows, nervous, has to look away. “I really like you.” 

He feels so dumb saying it. He may as well be proposing marriage, god. Luke’s hand twists in his grip, wraps around his wrist and yanks him forward, and when Michael looks at Luke’s face it’s smiling, grinning wide and happy. 

“I really like you too,” Luke says. Michael makes an accidental uncontrollable squeaky noise, like a whimper. Luke lets go of Michael’s wrist and grabs a fistful of his t-shirt instead, gives him a tug, and Michael just manages to catch himself before their faces collide, his hands on Luke’s shoulders, so when their lips meet it’s not a total disaster. 

Luke’s mouth is soft and Michael kisses it as softly as he can stand, only for a moment, until he’s trying very hard to resist the urge to climb into Luke’s lap, aware of how long it’s been since he’s had sex and how much he’d like to have some with Luke, and, unavoidably, that the last he had was with Calum.

“Wait,” Michael says, wrenching himself away maybe an inch. Luke looks adorable and confused, brow creased and mouth wet from being kissed. His hands have found their way to Michael’s hips and Michael likes them there very much.

“This sucks but,” Michael swallows, eyes glued to the wet pout of Luke’s bottom lip, the light shining off the ring through it. Luke’s shoulders feel so broad and firm under his hands. Michael wants to touch him all over. “I’m supposed to, I should talk to Calum first, before we. And I’ve already messed up.”

“That does suck,” Luke agrees, but looks disappointed in an understanding way. 

Michael takes his hands off Luke with some effort and steps back from him, Luke’s hands falling away. It’s awful. It’s as bad as Calum leaving, probably. Michael sits himself down heavily beside Luke on his bed - a bed, where sex has and could and _should_ happen, damnit. 

Luke reaches between their thighs and slips his hand into Michael’s again. It makes Michael’s chest feel warm and full, distracting him from his annoying needy dick. In the pocket of his jeans, his phone vibrates with a text. 

Awkwardly reaching across his body instead of extracting his hand from Luke, he wrestles his phone out of his pocket. It’s from Calum. 

_we need to talk_ , it says. 

Michael looks at Luke who’s looking at him and the world feels like a very unfair place. 

“You should call him,” Luke says. 

Michael nods and squeezes Luke’s hand. “You’re cool with it, though?” 

Luke shrugs and smiles in a wobbly kind of way. “I’ve… I’ve had a crush on you since high school even when you hated me -” Michael cringes. “The fact that you have a boyfriend now isn’t really doing much to make it go away either.” 

“Shit,” Michael says and reaches up to cup Luke’s cheek. Luke turns his face into Michael’s palm like he’s trying to hide there. It’s very cute and Michael feels so ashamed of his shitty, fifteen year old self. “I didn’t really hate you. I was a dumb asshole. I’m sorry,” Michael says. 

“It’s okay, it was a long time ago anyway, I didn’t think you’d remember,” Luke says, “but you should probably make it up to me. With like, sex.” 

Michael laughs at Luke’s funny little naughty smile. He likes him so much. “As soon as I make sure my boyfriend doesn’t want to break up,” he promises. 

Michael has to make Luke leave not long after, because the temptation to just take all his clothes off and crawl on top of him is just too great and Michael is very weak. They linger on Michael’s doorstep as they say goodbye, hands clinging, not kissing. Michael promises to text him as soon as he’s done talking to Calum. As soon as he shuts the door, after watching Luke walk away until he couldn’t actually see him anymore, he takes a deep breath and calls Calum.

…

“I’m so sorry,” Michael says into the phone for like the tenth time. 

“It’s fine,” Calum laughs, thank god, “I shouldn’t have freaked out, it was dumb.”

“It _was_ dumb, it was a dumb, shitty joke, and I’m sorry.” Michael’s so relieved he has the best most forgiving boyfriend ever. He’s glad he’s not fucked things up with his carelessness, but his heart's still beating kind of hard, waiting to bring up the brand new truth about Luke.

“I can’t believe I really thought you had a secret boyfriend. Ash had to talk me down, I was ready to book flights to come kick his ass. And yours.”

“Uh, yeah - about that,” Michael says. He switches his phone to his other ear. Calum laughs nervously and then goes quiet. Michael gathers together all his nerves, and just, fuck, if there’s one thing he really should have learned by now it’s that he should just _say_ it. He can trust Calum, there’s nothing he can’t tell him. Michael clears his throat. “Luke’s not my secret boyfriend, but. I’d kind of… like him to be? Not secret, but. Just my. I like him. A lot.” 

“Oh,” Calum says.

“Yeah,” Michael says, “I didn’t want to say, I didn’t know. It was just a joke but then he kind of, he likes me back?” 

“ _Oh_ ,” Calum repeats. Michael wishes so bad he could see his face. _Oh_ isn’t much to go off. 

“We kissed but then I stopped it,” Michael says, hoping the truth will absolve him from the guilt he feels at the memory of Luke’s mouth against his. “I wanted to talk to you about it first. Like we said.” 

Calum’s quiet for a moment and then he says, “I kissed Ashton.” 

“ _Oh_ ,” Michael says, this time. 

“Yeah, he was freaked out - and, I didn’t mean to. When he found out about you he said all this stuff about how he likes me more than just wanting to fuck me and I didn’t even know he liked me like that yet, I just couldn’t help it. He was so stressed out and he wouldn’t stop talking, and his voice went all high and kind of screechy, and -” 

“Okay,” Michael interrupts him, raising his voice over Calum’s. 

“We were going to tell you, on Skype. He wanted to be there since it’s the three of us in this thing.” 

“Three of us?” 

“Well, Luke too now I guess. Four.” 

“Yeah,” Michael says, a bit dazed. He feels hit by a truck, not having thought of what they’re doing like that - like, beyond him and Calum, and him and Luke. Maybe, it’s more like him and Calum _and_ Luke _and_ Ashton. Thinking about it, and now that he actually knows Luke, Calum would probably get along with him really well, and. Ashton certainly sounds cool. 

It feels less scary to think of it like that, like the four of them together, instead of Ashton and Luke pulling them apart. 

“I think I get it now,” Michael says faintly, feeling instantly closer to Calum and all the too-much love he has to give everyone. He feels very lucky to be loved by him.

“So,” Calum says, clearing his throat, “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.” 

“Deal,” Michael says. 

…

The next day, Michael and Luke are caught by Geordie in the store room with their hands down each others pants. Michael argues he was off the clock, but Geordie’s still pissed he’s getting laid at work. Luke doesn’t seem as embarrassed as he should, mostly just smug, which makes Michael feel just as smug, and makes Geordie chase them out the backdoor of the pub with a broom.

…

Having two boyfriends isn’t as weird as Michael thought it would be, and neither is the fact that one of his boyfriends has another boyfriend. Michael likes it and thinks maybe from now on he’ll do away with friends completely and just have a million boyfriends and girlfriends. Kissing is awesome and sex is awesome and love is awesome and Michael really believes that everyone he cares about should have a lot of all those things, even if that means he has to make it happen himself. 

Dating Luke is fun, even though they don’t really go on dates. They hang out at the pub because Michael’s working or Luke has a gig or because it’s just become their place. And when they’re not there it’s almost guaranteed they’re at Michael’s house, in Michael’s bed. Michael’s glad Luke seems to want to be around him just as much as he does, because uni gets so busy for Calum as the semester progresses that he doesn’t have much time at all to Skype, so Michael’s glad for Luke’s near-constant company. 

It’s the end of semester and the lead up to exams has Calum miserable. He’s stressed and distant, and it’s just so distressing to Michael that he can’t _do_ anything to help. He’s struggled to stop whining about it to Luke. Luke doesn’t seem to mind though, just listens attentively when Michael mumbles self-conscious worried nonsense about Calum.

When Luke tells Michael one afternoon that he has to go to Melbourne for a few days for a gig, it feels like Calum leaving all over again. Michael is sad for all of the two seconds it takes Luke to ask if he wants to come with him. 

“I figured we could go and surprise Calum,” Luke says shyly. 

“That would be _incredible_ ,” Michael gasps, grabbing Luke’s beautiful face between his hands and squeezing his cheeks probably too hard but Luke just giggles so Michael kisses him and says, “you’re the best fucking boyfriend ever.” 

Luke blushes happily and Michael gives him a blowjob for being so thoughtful.

…

It occurs to Michael, as he arrives on campus, feeling twelve years old and obvious in his Green Day shirt, that maybe he should have devised a better plan. Luke and the taxi dropped him off on the way to some meeting Luke’s bullshit manager set up for him, and the campus is way bigger than Michael anticipated. Even with a map pulled up on his phone it takes him the better part of half an hour to find the cluster of buildings labelled ‘student housing’. 

And that’s kind of where his plan ends. He realises he doesn’t even know what Calum’s room number is. He’s standing outside the entrance, which is keycoded, and is considering giving up and texting Cal and ruining the surprise. Maybe he should just wait. There’s a low, comfy looking concrete ledge he could sit on and pretend like he belongs here until he figures out his next move. Probably he’ll get arrested, or. 

“Oi, what the fuck?” 

Michael whips around before Calum’s voice even registers in his brain, and there he is, across the square, standing next to a very confused looking guy with blond, curly hair and nerdy glasses. Michael grins uncertainly and holds out his palms in a sort of, surprise-slash-shrug gesture, and Calum launches himself across the distance between them. 

It takes maybe one second, long enough for Michael’s heart to start pounding. He doesn’t recognise the shirt Calum’s wearing, but when Calum crashes into him and he wraps his arms around him, he feels exactly the same.

Calum squeezes him fiercely tight, gasps, “oh my god,” and then kisses him, finally, hard enough that Michael bites his own lip. It hurts, and it’s not a proper kiss, it’s just Calum squeezing his face between his hands and pressing their mouths together, but it’s okay because Michael can’t stop smiling long enough to make it good anyway. 

Calum shoves him away, hands fisted in the shoulders of Michael’s shirt, and then yanks him back close. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Settle down, gees,” Michael says, laughing at Calum’s face all scrunched up with joy. It was so, so worth it making the trip. “Surprise?” Michael glances at who he can only assume is Ashton, who has strayed closer. He didn’t really consider this part - meeting Calum’s other boyfriend, even though he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Calum and Luke meeting - and it makes his tummy feel all twisty with nerves. 

Calum follows his nervous gaze, and then untwists himself from his grip on Michael enough to hold his hand out to Ashton. Ashton doesn’t take it, but he steps closer, and smiles. He’s really cute, in a weird, arty-surfer-intellectual kind of way, but he looks friendly.

“Hey,” Ashton says, “you’re Michael.”

“Yeah,” Michael agrees, a little dazed. “Sorry, yeah, and you’re Ashton.” 

“And _I_ have just finished my exams. Drinks, lads!” Calum says. Ashton rolls his eyes, Michael laughs, and Calum hooks an arm around each of their necks and bounces a bit before dragging them in the direction of drinks, presumably. 

…

Luke texts Michael the address for the pub he’s playing and when Michael relays it to Ashton, he knows it. They pile into Ashton’s car, Michael in the back, Calum in the passenger seat. Michael can’t hear whatever it is Ashton and Cal are laughing about in the front, so he leans back in his seat and tries not to feel too weird about it. 

He can’t deny that it feels weird, but weird’s the only way he could really describe it. It’s not bad, or good. It’s kind of a mix - excited, nervous, curious. It’s strange to see Calum with someone else; it’s like seeing a whole new side of him, which is only bizarre given he’s his best friend, his boyfriend. 

Ashton lights him up in a brand new way. It’s beautiful. 

Michael’s hand curls around his seatbelt, restless. He wants to touch someone. He wants to see Luke. He’s excited to see him and excited for Calum to meet him. And Ashton. He’s excited and nervous _and_ curious for them all to be together, to see it play out. 

....

By the time they get to the club it’s too late and Luke’s already backstage preparing. Michael slides into one side of an out-of-the-way booth, making sure he has a clear view of the stage, and Calum takes the other. After brief consultation, Ashton slips away into the crowd to fetch the first round.

The light in the bar is low even though it’s mid-afternoon, and the number of people milling about is respectable. Michael concludes it’s a cool place. 

Calum’s looking at him across the table between them, biting his lip with his smile in his eyes. “How long ‘till he’s on?”

Michael checks his phone. “Not long,” Michael says. He feels nervous, always does before Luke performs even though he’s fucking amazing every single time. He knows Luke’s back there somewhere all full of pre-show jitters.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Calum says with a brilliant smile. 

“Me too,” Michael replies, returning it with full force.

Calum can’t seem to stop looking at him and it makes Michael feel all hot and shy. It’s a relief when Ashton turns up with three beers clutched in his large hands. Calum takes his with enthusiasm, muttering, “Thanks babe,” like it’s second nature, and Ashton places Michael’s drink in front of him with a smile. He really is handsome. 

Ashton slides into Calum’s side of the booth and takes a sip from his glass. Foam clings to his lip. He licks it off. Michael’s knows he’s staring at him but he can’t make himself stop. 

Ashton cracks up into loud, dorky giggle. “This is fucking weird,” he laughs, endearingly. Calum groans and Michael drops his head onto the table, hiding his smile. He feels giddy and relieved. 

“Well, now it is,” Calum says and Ashton shrugs. Michael raises his head and rubs his hand over his face. 

“It’s good to meet you though, finally,” Ashton says with a sweet sincerity Michael loves instantly. 

“Yeah, same,” Michael agrees. It really is. Being here with them, with Ashton in front of him, Michael doesn’t feel threatened at all. He feels happy and probably way too fond of Ashton given that they’ve just met. But if Calum likes him, and he does, a lot, Michael can tell, then Michael loves him already. 

Luke clears his throat from the stage, and maybe Michael’s head shoots up like a meerkat, but he’ll deny it. Calum laughs at him, and then turns with casual interest towards the stage. Michael needs to work on his chill.

“Hey, I’m Luke,” Luke addresses the humble crowd. His voice always sounds so much deeper through speakers. Michael is keenly aware of how swoony his face probably looks so he tries to focus on his drink. 

He is very smug when Luke starts singing and both Calum and Ashton’s eyebrows shoot up, both of them craning around to get a look at him like they physically _need_ to witness the source of Luke’s voice with their own eyes in order to process what they’re hearing. Michael gets it, Michael understands. He smirks into his beer and tries not to gaze too adoringly. 

It’s a short set. Luke plays all his best covers and a few clumsy originals too. Michael likes those best. Luke exits the stage and Michael, restless and impatient to finally have Luke within touching distance, gets up to get another round of drinks. 

Luke finds him by the bar, comes up close behind him and squeezes his hip making Michael jump. Luke laughs and Michael ignores him. He wants to turn his face up for a kiss but he’s feeling shy, now, suddenly. 

“You were so good,” he tells him. Luke sort of shrugs and makes a face, like he always does, so Michael hands him two martini glasses. “Help me carry these.” 

Luke follows him dutifully back to the booth were Ash and Cal have somehow squished up closer together. Calum has slid down the seat so his cheek is pressed against Ashton’s muscled arm and Ashton looks very quietly pleased about it. They’re very cute.

“Couldn’t you just buy beer like a normal person?” Calum laughs as Michael and Luke set down the set of martinis. 

“I feel so sophisticated,” Ashton giggles as he picks one up delicately, large hand cupped under the wide rim of the glass. 

“Hi,” Luke says. 

“Oh,” Michael gestures between Luke and the other two. He’s so bad at this. “This is -” 

“Yeah, hey,” Calum interrupts, wiggling up in his seat to drag his drink across the table towards him. “Man, you were _amazing_ dude, like,” Calum slurps at his drink and makes a face, “I get why Michael wants to suck your dick.”

Ashton smacks him in the shoulder. “How much have you had to _drink_?” He squawks. Calum giggles like a small, naughty child and takes another sip. “But really, you were great,” Ashton says, pulling out that shiny eyed sincerity again. 

Luke blushes happily. Michael hustles him down into their side of the booth and climbs in after him, relieved finally, to feel Luke’s side pressed against his own. Luke rubs his nose against Michael’s shoulder in a typically weird Luke sign of affection. Michael bites his lip to keep his smile from growing too big. 

Reaching into his pocket, Luke places a business card onto the tabletop, right over a small puddle of beer. “There was a guy here,” Luke mumbles, nudging Michael’s side. 

Michael snatches up the card. “Luke,” he says, frantically wiping the moisture from the shiny surface of it. It’s soaked in a bit already, but not too bad. “Luke, this says _Sony_.” 

“Yeah,” Luke places both his hands on the table top. “He wants to sign me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Ashton says sharply from across the table, putting down his drink. “I’m sorry, did you just say a guy from Sony wants to _sign_ you?” 

Luke bares his teeth in a wobbly grin, holding up his hands like he’s admitting to some big mistake. Like, _whoopsie, I’m a signed musician now?_ Michael grabs his face and kisses him hard on the mouth. 

“It’s probably not that big of a deal…” Luke mumbles squishily, his face still caught in Michael’s grip, and then, “I should probably call my mum.” 

“Holy shit,” Michael says, breathlessly. He lets him go.

“Holy shit,” Calum echoes, squeakily, “this calls for some proper fucking drinks!” He clambers over Ashton’s lap and returns with not one, but two jugs of beer. 

…

“You’re gonna be soo famous,” Michael slurs wetly against Luke’s cheek. It’s possible he’s had more to drink than is really wise. 

But then, they all have, all of them slumped pink cheeked in their booth. Luke giggles adorably. Under the table Michael clumsily cops a feel too far up Luke’s thigh and makes him squeak.

“Mikey come dance with me,” Calum whines. Ashton maintains he’s a few drinks off public dancing levels of drunkenness yet, though he keeps mindlessly wriggling and nodding along with the band on stage. 

Michael is most definitely at the public dancing stage of drunk, for sure. “Yes,” Michael agrees and drags himself up out of the booth. Distantly, his bladder is yelling at him. “But first, peeing.” 

Calum pouts, but Michael didn’t expect him to actually follow him to the bathroom. He laughs when Calum ducks through the bathroom door looking squirrelly just as he finishes up. “I didn’t take that long, jesus,” Michael mutters. 

Calum shakes his head and pushes him backwards into the stall, grabs him and presses his mouth sloppily against his. “Oh,” Michael gasps before kissing him back. 

Calum’s all over him, pressing him into the wall and sliding his hands under his shirt, pulling him close by the small of his back as he draws back and gasps, “I missed you so much, Mikey.”

“Me too,” Michael says, or would if Calum doesn’t kiss him again. It feels so good, so familiar. Michael shouldn’t have worried - their mouths and bodies haven’t forgotten a single thing. He really did miss this; as much as he loves being with Luke, it’ll never feel the same as it does with Calum. Not that he’s comparing or anything, because how could he? But it’s difficult not to think about the differences, the similarities. 

Luke’s out there in the bar waiting for him to come back and Calum’s here in the bathroom, rubbing against him and kissing him like he’s drowning. It’s enough to make Michael’s head spin. 

“We can’t get off in a fucking _toilet_ ,” Michael mumbles against Calum’s warm, wet mouth. He had grand visions of candles and mood music for their romantic reunion. 

“Why?” Calum whines, slumping against him. His mouth finds Michael’s throat, licking at his skin, tugging at the neck of his shirt to get his mouth on that place at the base of Michael’s throat that turns him into weak, acquiescent jelly. 

“Because,” Michael says breathlessly, swallowing, his head tipped back against the wall. He super, super wants to get off in a fucking toilet. Fuck candles, fuck mood music. He fists his hand in the back of Calum’s shirt, biting his lip. 

“Oh my god,” Calum says, jerking away. Michael blinks, startled. “Is that,” Calum’s thumb presses sensitive pressure into Michael’s collarbone, “fuck, is this from Luke?” He asks. It takes Michael’s fuzzy beer brain a moment to remember the bruise Luke left on him that morning. His face heats. 

“Yes...?” He says, trying to decide if Calum sounds outraged or just curious. It’s not fucking fair if now, after everything, Calum’s gonna get all weird and possessive on him. Michael takes Calum’s hand off his collarbone, their palm’s sliding together, Calum’s slightly clammy. Michael meets Calum’s eyes, feels his chest rise and fall against his own as he catches his breath. 

“That’s like,” Calum gasps, “really, _really_ hot. Fuck.” Calum snatches another kiss against Michael’s mouth, fierce and hot. Michael smiles his relief into it, grin fading into the demand of Calum’s lips and tongue. He moans, losing himself as Calum grinds their hips tight together and licks greedily into his mouth. 

“Cal,” Michael gasps, unable to stop himself from giving everything back twice as eagerly as Calum gives it. “The others, they’re,” he says, voice smeared wet against Calum’s mouth. 

Calum groans, obviously displeased, but relents, drawing away and leaving Michael’s lips hot and used. “Shit. You’re right,” he says, his voice dipped low and crackly. His sex voice. Michael only barely keeps himself from kissing him again. “The others,” he echoes, looking torn. 

“Our boyfriends,” Michael says and laughs, because it’s ridiculous. “We shouldn’t, not here, without… I don’t know. It feels wrong.” 

“It feels wrong?” Calum repeats, taking a step back. 

“No - fuck,” Michael reaches out, grabbing a fistful of Calum’s shirt. He wishes this was as simple as just doing what he wants, what Calum wants, but there’s four of them now. Sort of. Even drunk he can’t just pretend like it’s the same as it always has been with Calum, like it’s not more complicated than that now. “Luke’s been so fucking good about - about everything, and. It doesn’t seem right to just, shouldn’t we make sure they’re okay first?” 

Calum narrows his eyes, but his face softens. He takes Michael’s fist from his shirt and kisses his knuckles. “You’re a good boyfriend, Clifford,” he says seriously. 

Michael shrugs, blushing. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.” 

Calum nods, and takes a step back from Michael, their bodies falling away from each other at each precious point of long-missed connection. “We’re gonna have sex though, right?” 

Michael laughs, feeling giddy. “Yes. Absolutely. It’s going to be amazing.” 

“Okay,” Calum says, unlatching the door and pulling Michael out of the stall. “Let’s go tend to our boys.” 

…

Michael’s feeling really proud of the level of drunken self-restraint he’s been able to exercise as he emerges from the bathrooms with a half-hard dick and his hand in Calum’s. _Really_ fucking proud, until they approach the booth to find Luke basically in Ashton’s lap, kissing him. 

“What the fuck!” Calum throws Michael’s hand down as if it’s the source of betrayal. Michael crosses his arms. 

It’s not like Michael’s mad or anything; it’d be weird to feel mad about them doing the exact same thing he was only a moment ago, but it’s pretty ironic how his concern about their feelings drew him away from Calum’s amazing fucking mouth to discover them like this. 

Ashton pulls away looking caught and sheepish. Luke mostly looks flushed. Calum waves his hands at them. 

“Well, you two are getting along,” Michael says. Calum grabs his hand and makes to march him right back the way they came but Michael resists, laughing. 

“If you talk about being mindful of their feelings again, I swear to god,” Calum grumbles. He seems genuinely angry. Michael puts an arm around him and kisses his cheek, stroking his shoulder soothingly. 

“We were just…” but Ashton seems to be struggling to come up with an explanation. “He’s hot? I’m drunk?” 

“Correct on both points,” Michael says, eyeing Luke with his arm around Calum and not feeling that possessive at all. 

Luke looks pleased, biting his lip through his grin. “Maybe we could talk about this back at the hotel,” he says. The three of them look at him but only Michael really understands what he’s suggesting. He can see it in the way Luke’s eyes linger on his hand on Calum, the way he hasn’t taken his own hand off of Ashton’s waist. 

“Good idea,” Michael says. 

“Yeah, I don’t think we need anymore drinks,” says Ashton. Michael raises his eyebrow at him and Ashton looks away. He wants to tell him it’s okay. If there’s one thing he understands it’s how kissable Luke is; Ashton doesn’t need to blame the alcohol. 

…

It’s possible that Michael hasn’t really understood the significance of this trip. Considering the Sony guy’s business card and now how amazing the hotel room is that Luke’s manager has sprung for, it’s possible that Luke has downplayed certain important business aspects of his _random gig in Melbourne_. 

“Are you being like, _courted_? By _record companies_?” Michael demands with narrowed eyes and a finger stabbed in Luke’s chest. 

Luke squirms a little uncomfortably, and then admits, “I might’ve got an offer from Warner back home.” 

“Oh my god,” Michael huffs, “I’ve been living a lie. I’m dating a rock star.” 

Luke cringes. Calum laughs and hands Luke a small tumbler half full with whiskey. He clinks his own against it and makes eyebrows at him. “Congratulations,” he says and takes his shot. 

“I thought we agreed no more drinking,” Ashton says, a little hysterically. To be fair, Calum has taken off his shirt. 

“Okay,” Michael announces, he hopes with some authority. “This isn’t going to work.” 

Calum slams his glass back onto the table. “You’re right,” he says, and places his hands flat on the tabletop with an air of seriousness, “I think we should all have sex.” 

“Okay,” Luke says. 

“Um,” says Ashton. 

Michael just rolls his eyes, though he finds himself watching Ashton, gauging his reaction. He’s hard to read. He’s only just met him, for god’s sake. They can’t just - 

“No, hear me out,” Calum says. Probably his shirtlessness is part of the pitch. It’s convincing. Ashton is looking at him with a lot of focus. 

Luke seems more relaxed, looking between them all from his lazy lean against the table Calum’s stationed himself behind. “Don’t you think it’ll make it _less_ weird, if we’re all -” he makes a vague hand gesture that morphs into two fingers pointed each at Ashton and Luke, “I mean, you two obviously want to fuck each other.” 

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Ashton says defensively. 

“No, it wasn’t an accusation,” Calum says. “I want you to, if you want to. And I wanna as well. I mean, with Luke.”

“Hi,” Luke says with a smug smile. Michael feels a beat of possessiveness as Calum and Luke consider each other, and then blushes when Luke’s eyes slide from Calum to him and he’s caught staring. “That leaves you two,” Luke says, in his calm, deep voice. It’s a little hypnotic and it takes a moment before Michael realises he means him and Ashton. He feels suddenly shy. 

Loaded silence stretches over them until Ashton says, hesitantly, “I don’t know. This is kind of intense, guys.” He glances at Michael and away again. 

Michael feels his face get hot with rejection. He shouldn’t feel bad, not when two out of the three people in the room want to fuck him, but still. “It’s fine,” Michael says tightly, tries to force out a laugh. It sounds choked instead of casual. “It’s no big deal, you’re not into me. It was a dumb idea anyway.” 

“What? I never said that,” Ashton says. “It’s a dumb fucking idea, but I never said I wasn’t into you.” 

Michael bites his lip and looks at Ashton. He seems sincere and embarrassed about it. Calum slips around the table and comes to stand beside Ashton. He puts his arms around his shoulders, pressing against him. “You like Mikey,” Calum says, “I know you do, you told me. Remember?” 

“Cal,” Ashton says, warning in his tone. His hand fists at the base of Calum’s bare spine. Calum grins against Ashton’s cheek. 

“You like his mouth,” Calum says. Ashton looks at Michael, stricken. 

“It’s a great mouth,” Luke comments. Michael’s mouth is beginning to feel like it’s not a part of his face. He licks his lips and Ashton’s eyes follow the movement. 

“I only just met you,” Ashton says to Michael almost apologetically.

“That’s okay,” Calum says, soft and goading. He strokes Ashton’s jaw, presses a kiss against his cheek. Ashton is like putty in his hands. 

“It is,” Michael agrees, stepping forward. He feels a little crazy, wanting Ashton so much all of a sudden, as much as he does Calum and Luke. He wants all of them. It just makes sense. “We only just met but Cal likes you so much, so I do too,” he says. 

“That’s what it feels like,” Luke says, suddenly beside the three of them. He moves closer, staring at Calum. He puts his hand on his shoulder and Calum loosens his hold on Ashton a little to turn to him, drawn by Luke’s intensity the same way Michael is. “Wanting to be with Michael, it’s always meant wanting you too, to me. Once I knew about it, it was just part of it. And so if you want Ashton then I do too, because you and Mikey,” Luke screws up his nose. “Does that make sense?” 

“Perfect,” Calum says a little breathlessly and then gets his hand in Luke’s shirt, hauls him in and kisses him. 

Michael almost moans watching Luke’s mouth fit against Calum’s, soft but sure. Michael doesn’t know if Luke really makes sense - how could something as complicated as this be as simple as that? It feels good watching them kiss though, makes Michael’s tummy feel warm. 

Luke pulls away from Calum with a smile and Calum ducks his head against Ashton’s shoulder with a giggle. Michael doesn’t know who he wants to kiss the most and it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. 

“Is that how you feel too?” Ashton asks. Michael looks at him, startled by how close he is. 

He nods. Even if he didn’t know it until Luke said it, it has to be true. It just makes sense, it feels good. “What about you?” Michael asks, hopeful. It needs to be all of them now, if it’s going to be any of them. 

“Yeah, I - it’s just so weird,” Ashton says, “but I can’t help it - I think about you and Calum all the time, and I don’t get why I’m not jealous. It didn’t feel weird just now when they kissed. Is that okay?” 

Michael shrugs. “I think it’s okay if we say it’s okay.” 

“I think it’d be okay if you guys kissed now,” Calum says, looking between them with bright eyes and flushed cheeks. He can feel how bad Calum and Luke want it to happen but that doesn’t have anything to do with how badly Michael wants to kiss Ashton himself. 

He reaches up and carefully slips Ashton’s glasses from his face and then kisses him, gently. Luke takes Ashton’s glasses from his hand and so Michael touches Ashton’s face instead, his strong, stubbled jawline under his fingertips. Michael holds himself back, not wanting to push Ashton too much, keeping it almost chaste between them. Still, it feels like sealing the deal. 

Michael pulls back after a long moment, wanting so much more. Ashton keeps him from getting too far, holding onto his elbow, breathing against his mouth. “How is this going to work?” he asks, breathlessly. 

Calum slips his hand under Michael’s on Ashton’s jaw, turns his face to him and kisses him. Michael’s caught for a moment, just watching them and the easy, hot way they fit together. After a moment lost to Calum’s eagerness, Ashton takes the lead, forcing Calum to tilt his face up to his, his hand on the side of Calum’s neck, holding him. Ashton’s control interests Michael, that and the way Calum gives in to him like it’s second nature. With them it’s always been too hot and too fast, and Michael likes throwing himself into it, but it’s a different thing the way Calum follows Ashton, only takes so much as he’s allowed. Calum moans, sound of it hot and lost between his mouth and Ashton’s, and Michael kind of needs to be kissed immediately. 

Luckily, Luke is one step ahead, crowding close and offering his sweet smiling mouth for the taking. Michael wraps his arms around him and pulls him close, kisses him hard enough that it makes Luke squeak. He just likes him so much, likes all of them. 

Kissing three people that he’s very super invested in kissing in such quick succession is kind of a trip but Michael’s into it. Luke must be too, he’s kissing him so needily, his tongue flicking at Michael’s lip, teasing until Michael squeezes Luke’s hip and licks into his mouth hot and deep. Luke moans and pushes their bodies tighter together, his thigh nudging between Michael’s legs, his cock riding hard against Michael’s hip, eager. Michael is too.

“Bed,” Michael huffs in a breath between kisses. Luke obediently peels away from him and then they both turn and find Calum naked. “Shit,” Michael breathes, because it’s been awhile, and Calum is. Well, when you’re used to it, it’s not so bad, but like, after so long, without proper mental preparation, the image of him is pretty fucking assaulting.

Luke’s staring too, mouth hanging open in a parody of Michael’s own feelings. Calum’s beautiful as ever, long and lean and tan, stepping out of his pants unintentionally gracefully. Ashton’s hands are on him, broad and strong on his sides, guiding him back to him. Michael makes a low noise in his throat and moves without thinking. 

Michael feels Calum startle when he puts his arms around him from behind, pressing his palm flat to Calum’s stomach. “Calum,” is all Michael can say as way of explanation, but Calum just turns to him with the softest smile and pulls him into a kiss, twisting in Michael’s arms, Ashton’s too, his hands covering one each of theirs on his skin. 

“You guys are,” Ashton says, voice cracking. When Michael slits his eyes open he nearly moans again from the hot way Ashton’s watching them. 

“Beautiful,” Luke finishes for Ashton, slipping onto the big King sized bed behind them all. Luke’s been brave enough to strip off but keeps his underwear on. It’s a mindfuck, kissing Calum, holding him naked against him, and seeing Luke flushed and gorgeous right there too. This is not how Michael foresaw this trip playing out, or any of this; Calum moving, meeting Luke, Ashton, but he’s so grateful it’s happening. It feels like everything he’s been missing, it feels like every single stupid doubt and insecurity squashed under the weight of these three boys’ openness, willingness, and love. 

Michael squeezes Calum’s hand and drags his mouth away, leaving Calum panting and pink-cheeked. It’s too difficult to focus on kissing when he very much wants to focus on so many other things too, like the shy way Ashton kneels on the bed when Luke holds out his hand, and how sweet and hot it looks when Luke tugs at the hem of Ashton’s shirt in wordless request. Michael strokes Calum’s hipbone, drags his mouth down his throat, and Calum gasps, tips his head back against Michael’s shoulder, and together they watch Luke undress Ashton.

Michael knows Luke, and he’s expecting it the way he presses himself against Ashton as soon as he’s stripped, eager for skin on skin. Luke pulls Ashton into his broad chest, presses a kiss against his shoulder, looks almost just like a sweet hug but Michael can see the subtle shift of his arm, his hand hidden between them. 

Michael nudges Calum forward, keeps him held close but walks him to the edge of the bed, to the others. Luke turns his face to them and Ashton’s mouth presses open against Luke’s cheek, eyelashes fluttering. “Are you gonna take your clothes off?” Luke asks. Michael didn’t even realise how overdressed he’d become. 

Calum’s pulling away now anyway, drawn to Ashton in a way Michael _totally_ understands, so he lets him go, and uses his freed hands to tug his shirt off and scramble with his belt buckle, the mechanics of which seem to have turned into some kind of puzzle in his clumsy hands. Or it could be Ashton’s hand on Calum’s bare ass while his other draws Luke’s face close for a kiss, pulling away from Calum with a mouth wet from their kiss just to meet Luke’s. 

“Fuck,” Michael swears, and yanks, and finally his belt rips free from his jeans. He shoves them down without even bothering to undo them, and it’s just convenient when it leaves him naked, his underwear caught in the tangle of jeans kicked off his feet. 

“Mikey,” Calum gasps, holding out his hand. Michael collapses onto the bed, into them, like coming home. 

He kisses Calum but only for a second until the need to kiss the others gets too much and he pulls away to find the next closest mouth, Luke’s. They’re four bodies but one hot tangle; long limbs and endless skin sliding together trying to fit. Somehow, Michael finds himself in the familiar cradle of Luke’s thighs and Luke grinds up against him, the heat of his hard cock dulled through cotton underwear Michael finds frankly offensive at this moment in time. He shoves them down Luke’s hips, lifting his own to get them out from between them, Luke wriggling to help. Michael’s head is so sex-clouded it seems like a real challenge, and he pulls away from Luke’s mouth with the intention of gaining some useful perspective but then he just sees Ashton looking at him as Calum moans against his collarbone and Michael, sensing Ashton’s want, has to scramble up to kiss him.

It’s harder than their initial gentle kiss. Ashton’s mouth demands the kiss from Michael, takes it, and Michael can’t help moaning. Ashton’s tongue is hot and sure, his hand firm, slipping rough into the back of his hair, drawing him close like he’s all he’s ever wanted. Calum presses his mouth to Michael’s shoulder, Michael knows it’s him even though he can’t bring himself to turn away from Ashton until he decides he’s done with him, but he recognises the touch of Calum’s lips against his chest, knows his mouth by memory. 

Calum kisses his chest and fists his cock. “Gunna suck you,” he murmurs against Michael’s skin. Michael whimpers helplessly, so grateful for Luke’s broad hands on him, guiding him onto his back between his legs. Ashton follows, barely breaking their kiss, and then Michael’s reclined on Luke’s chest. Luke reaches down Michael’s body and circles his fingers around the base of his cock, holding him and offering him up to Calum.

“Fuck,” Michael gasps against Ashton’s mouth, his whole body shivering between them all, and Calum hasn’t even got his mouth on him yet. 

Michael makes a noise like he’s been hurt when Calum does take him into his mouth and Ashton pulls away with a knowing smile, keeps his hand on Michael’s cheek. “He’s so good, you wanna watch?” he asks, his voice rough, turning away to look for himself.

Michael nods eagerly and Luke says, “We all do,” his chest rumbling under Michael’s back. 

Nothing’s as beautiful as Calum - thick, lowered lashes, swollen red lips parted, taking Michael’s cock into his hot mouth with so much concentration. “Cal,” Michael chokes, fingers twitching and finding their way to Calum’s hair, frantic. 

Calum swallows him down until his lips touch the ring of Luke’s slender fingers, and then Luke swears too, squirming under Michael, rubbing his dick against him. It’s so hot Michael thinks he’s going to die, which would be okay maybe, if it were to happen right here with these three boys. 

Michael scratches against Calum’s scalp, drops his head back against Luke’s chest and moans shamelessly. 

“You look so good sucking him, babe,” Ashton says, as if he knows exactly how it’s going to spur Calum on, make him bob up and down the length of Michael’s cock all the faster, eager to please. Cheeks hollowed, sucking hard; he looks almost as good as it feels.

“Oh my god.” Michael trembles. Calum just keeps taking him deeper and deeper, and then, once Luke’s slipped his fingers out of the way to lie low on Michael’s belly instead, Calum takes him all the way, swallowing him down. “Fuck, you’ve gotten even better,” Michael gasps, hips jerking helplessly to fuck his cock accidentally too far down Calum’s throat.

Calum handles it well, barely even gags, just pulls off with a smile and wet lips. “We’ve been practicing,” he says, his voice throaty. Michal looks at Ashton who sheepishly squeezes at his hard cock. It’s big, bigger than either of theirs, more than even Michael could take probably, but he’d like to try. 

Calum goes back down and Michael has to stop admiring Ashton’s big dick in favor of trying not to choke Calum on his own. He pants, forces his hips still, and grapples for Luke’s hand. He finds it, holds onto it tight and Luke kisses the top of his head. 

Michael doesn’t want to come yet but it feels so fucking good, he doesn’t want it to be over. Ever. Not just the blowjob - more than that. This moment, the four of them. There’s so much Michael wants to _do_ , but all he can do is cling to Luke’s hand as Calum sucks his soul right outta his cock. 

Calum pulls off with a slurp and grins like Christmas morning. “Fuck, I missed your dick so bad, Mikey,” he licks fondly at the shining wet tip of it and then rubs his nose against it in a nuzzle, smiling happily. It’s very cute and absurdly hot. Michael reaches down and pets Calum’s cheek with the hand not clutching at Luke’s. “I missed _you_.” 

“Me too,” Michael pants, “so much, I love you.” He does, so much it feels like _too_ much, like he might just explode, and not only in an ejaculate kind of way. He’s so glad Luke and Ashton are there to share it, to help bear the load of it. Michael looks away from Calum, to Ashton hovering on his knees by his side and then twists his head back to catch Luke’s eye and feels a little guilty and very fond. “Sorry, I don’t wanna ignore you guys.” 

“You’re not,” Ashton says. 

Luke nods, “you guys haven’t been able to do this for a long time.”

Michael kind of feels like crying. It’s relief mostly, but a bigger feeling too - safety, belonging, understanding. He nods and Calum scrambles up the length of Michael’s body to collapse his way into Ashton, force himself into his arms, wriggling happily as he leans over Michael to kiss Luke’s mouth and Ashton folds his arms around him. “You’re so understanding,” Calum says, dropping back and covering Ashton’s hand on his belly with his own. It’s clear he’s addressing them both.

“He’s the best,” Michael says, taking his own turn at kissing Luke. Luke smiles, flushed, his eyes shining. 

“You didn’t have to stop,” Ashton says.

“I missed you,” Calum shrugs. 

Ashton squeezes his waist and says, “Aw, you nerd,” but he looks very pleased, hiding his very fond smile behind Calum’s shoulder for a moment.

Michael shifts his ass back against Luke’s dick just as Ashton drags his hand down Calum’s hip and wraps it around his cock. Luke and Calum echo each other, moaning basically in harmony. Foursomes are fantastic, Michael decides, if only for sex noises in stereo. 

Calum arches his back, his body a beautiful curve against Ashton’s, his eyes slitted in pleasure as Ashton jerks his cock with long, easy strokes of his big hand. Calum’s stretched bare, at Ashton’s mercy, tummy taut as he rolls his hips to meet the movement of Ashton’s hand, fucking his tight grip. It looks so good, the dark pink head of Calum’s cock in Ashton’s fist, the tense muscle of Ashton’s forearm, the fine bones of his knuckles and Calum’s strong thighs. 

“They look good,” Luke says, right against Michael’s ear. Michael shivers and Luke’s hand creeps over his hip, finds and curls around his cock. He strokes him lightly, tentative, like he’s unsure. Michael’s not sure either, he’s not really well versed on foursome protocol, but he loves it when Luke touches him, and he’s loving watching Ashton touch Calum. 

Calum keeps looking at him - in between his eyelids flitting closed as if it’s too good, he can’t help it - so Michael stares back at him, returning his gaze best he can. It feels like Calum wants it like this, that he’s showing Michael something, that he wants Michael to see and wants to be allowed to see in turn. Michael is more than happy to look even though he wants a lot more than that if he’s honest. It’s nice as it is, being touched, being near. He feels too hot in a pleasant way, wrapped up in Luke’s arms, pressed against him like this and close to two more bodies, it’s a wonderful kind of overheated, overwhelmed. 

Ashton sets the pace and Luke matches it. Calum moans and Michael echoes it, sounding increasingly more lost as it continues. He’s losing himself, he can feel it, losing his grip on something anyway, into the madness of the four of them, but he wants to, he likes it. Michael tries to ride back against Luke, give him a little something for all he’s getting, but he’s useless with Calum in front of him, Luke’s hand on him - it’s just too much to process in any functional way. Michael’s only barely firing on any cylinders at all and those he is are just telling him _fuck_ , _more_ , and _come_.

“Are you gonna come?” Calum pants through gritted teeth. 

All Michael can do is groan and nod. He is, he will, it’s coming. Soon, he just needs - Calum’s eyebrows shooting up, mouth dropping open - 

“Oh, f-,” Calum’s voice cracks, dying out as Ashton squeezes his cock and a long stripe of come kicks up his belly. Calum jerks in Ashton’s arms and Ashton strokes his thumb over Calum’s cockhead, catches another spurt of come and smears it across Calum’s trembling thigh. 

“Jesus, Cal,” Michael moans helplessly as his belly bottoms out and his toes curl, leaning back into the support of Luke’s body as his orgasm washes over him, fast and rolling, tumbling over a waterfall into sparkly nothing for a hot second, not even aware he’s doing it until he’s blinking down at Luke’s hand on his dick with tears in his eyes and come just, everywhere. 

Luke laughs in his ear, low and hot. “Don’t think I’ve seen you come that hard before,” he mumbles, his hips rocking against Michael, riding the curve of his ass, the press of his cock sticky and hot against Michael’s skin.

Michael feels his heartbeat in his elbows, his fingertips and knees and ass. He blinks and shivers and Calum’s looking at him with like he’s been through something of epic, life-changing proportions, the look on his face echoing Michael’s own feelings exactly. With a clumsy hand, Michael reaches back behind himself and gets a loose grip on Luke’s dick. Luke makes a weak noise and squeezes his waist, ruts his hips forward with more purpose. 

It only takes a moment for him to come, splashing hot and wet up Michael’s back. Michael wants to turn over to kiss him, hold him, but Calum’s wriggling into the little space between them, right up against Michael and then turning over to put his back to Michael’s chest.

He brings Ashton with him, who glances shy and flushed between Michael and Luke. Calum reaches back for Michael’s hand, takes it even though it’s striped with Luke’s come, and drags it over his waist and down. Michael’s knuckles bump the solid, thick heat of Ashton’s cock before he automatically wraps his hand around it. Michael shudders, the feeling of holding another boy’s cock whilst pressed between his two boyfriends is really something else. 

Calum’s moves his hand on Ashton’s cock and then Michael’s jacking him off and watching Ashton lean in eagerly for hot, needy kisses, watching Calum lick at his tongue and listening to him moan. There’s something special about witnessing Ashton unguarded, the delicate skin of his closed eyelids, trusting, his eyelashes up close. He fucks their hands in strong, steady thrusts and Michael can’t help but think about how great a fuck he must be, wonders when he’ll get to find out for sure. 

Behind him Luke’s keeping quiet, but presses sweet, content kisses to Michael’s shoulder, stroking his hip absently. He slides his thigh between Michael’s, tangles their legs together. 

When Ashton comes it’s over, but really it’s only just begun. 

…

As it turns out, relocating to a new city is way more affordable when you’re going to be sharing expenses with your three boyfriends, one of whom is a moderately successful musician. They rent a place near campus for Calum with four bedrooms despite the fact they end up piled into the one bed most nights anyway. One makes for good storage for Ashton’s kit and Luke’s modest collection of guitars. 

Michael scores a job working at the Uni bar and with Luke’s gentle coaxing, gets more serious about guitar. They sound good together, and even better with Ashton backing the two of them on drums. It’s not long before Calum emerges from an assignment stress haze with some hastily composed lyrics, shyly presenting them to the other three and blushing when Luke looks at him very seriously and asks him what it sounds like, to sing it. 

Their first show as a band isn’t anything special but it’s the most incredible thing Michael’s ever experienced. On stage, letting the crowd - and the world - see the way the four of them fit together, unable to hide the love between them, he’s never been so sure or proud of anything before in his life.


End file.
